1. Time flies.
Seriously -- it feels like I just got here yesterday, and now I'm almost halfway through the program. I do feel pressure to use this time as productively as I can, but it’s also helpful to remember that writing is a lifelong pursuit and graduation is not a deadline for artistic growth.
2. Perfectionism is counterproductive to revision.
Well, at least for me it is. Somehow, I’ve learned to suspend my fear of inadequacy as I take in feedback and revise my work. I think we all wish we could write a perfect, unimpeachable story in one go. But staying wedded to that delusion is a great way to get nothing done at all.
3. Sometimes cliche advice is worth listening to.
As much as I want to groan when I hear “show, don’t tell” for the 500th time in a writing workshop . . . It pains me to admit that sometimes I do, in fact, need to show rather than just telling.
4. Genre matters.
Even though I minored in Creative Writing and as an undergrad, I don’t think anyone ever prompted me to describe my genre aims until I started applying to MFA programs. And as someone who primarily writes brooding realistic fiction about womanhood and the landscape of emotion, I tend to stumble when asked to categorize my work or sum up my aims in a few words. I’m still figuring that out. But regardless, navigating the genre question has led to deep, generative insights as I press on with the writing itself.
5. Writing doesn’t have to be lonely.
This should probably be obvious, but my conversations with other writers this year have been extremely valuable, in and outside of the workshop setting. It’s tempting to picture writers as solitary creatures, working out of remote log cabins or sad, empty apartments. And while the act of writing itself is often solitary, it doesn't have to be isolating. To the contrary, in the past 8 months I’ve really come to appreciate how belonging to a writerly community can enrich the creative process.
Written by: Melanie Hrbek